A Broken Man
by Decaying-Fantasy
Summary: The now Broken Man; Sherlock Holmes is a hollow shell of what he used to be, especially after the previous events of; The Reichenbach falls. He is finally coming to terms of what he has lost and finally falls victim to his ultimate enemy. Post Reichenbach Falls, Slight/Eventual? Sherlolly, Chaptered Fic, JohnLock Bromance. (Reuploaded from old account to this one)


(This is reuploaded from my old account to my new one here)

A Broken Man

Pairing: slight Sherlolly (Sherlock and Molly)

Chaptered Fan Fiction (Depending on the response)

Beta-ed by: K-ChanLovesAnimeXD

Summary: The now Broken Man; Sherlock Holmes is a hollow shell of what he used to be, especially after the previous events of; The Reichenbach falls. He is finally coming to terms of what he has lost and finally falls victim to his ultimate enemy.

There was a moment of silence as he turned over, muttering a few things before trying to sleep again. But after a few more minutes, he gave up on the idea of sleeping and rose from the bed, pulled his royal-blue dressing gown over his shoulders and proceeded toward the door.

He made his way into the small living room of the flat he was currently inhabiting. He stood over the hideous looking sofa and started muttering some comments about how vulgar it was, before then sitting himself slowly down upon it, much to his dismay.

It was quiet in the dark flat, it was always quiet infact, especially since all of the past few days recent events.

Sherlock Holmes, the world's only Consulting Detective had finally brought about the end of James Moriarty. The diabolical mastermind who he had considered his equal, who had tried everything to rip everything he 'loved' away from him. With his defeat now upon him, he had no other choice, he had to save the ones he cared deepest for.

Throwing himself off the roof of St. Barts Hospital and making the ultimate sacrifice in order to save those he cherished most. He had put his faith into someone he had never even looked twice at previously, especially to even consider going to them for help. Someone who had always been there for him, someone who was willing to put everything on the line just to help him.

''Couldn't sleep either?'' Said a rather squeaky voice suddenly.

Sherlock looked at her and their eyes met for a quick second, before she looked down to sever the eye contact.

Molly Hooper, the petite and rather nervous Pathologist who worked at St. Barts Hospital, was the one he had turned to for the help he needed. Everything he needed to carry out his 'suicide' successfully, and she was the ideal candidate to help him.

''Something like that...'' He replied.

He ran his fingers through his mahogany brown hair and he let out a small sigh.

Molly was sitting across from the sofa at the Kitchen counter, observing the consulting detective, before turning her attention to the steaming hot liquid in the cup in front of her. Putting her small fingers around the cup handle and slowly lifting it to her mouth, pausing for a brief moment, she blew lightly at the hot liquid in attempts to cool it slightly, then pressing the cheap porcelain cup to her lips and drank some of the content. Pulling the cup away and slowly placing it down on the counter in front of her, she kept her fingers entwined with the handle and turned her attention back to the man sitting on her sofa.

It's not everyday that Molly Hooper had Sherlock Holmes sitting on her sofa in the middle of the night. Apart from the other, which she prefers not to even think about, especially when she- That was a story for another time and place. In fact it was the very same man, the same man who had caused all this pain and suffering, even in death.

He knew that she was staring at him, he had always been well aware of when she would drift off into some stupid daydreams; things that wouldn't be ideal to discuss over a dinner table.

This would usually be the time he would follow up with a comment which would either make her admire him even more, (which he secretly liked) or hurt her than his ignorant mind ever seen to realize. But his mind was elsewhere at that moment.

He was interlocked in an intense battle for control of his 'Mind Palace'. The invading army who called themselves 'emotions' were closing in, and he was frantically looking for a solution to deal with potential problem as quick as possible. But no matter how frantic the search he was having no such luck. Before he could even come to a conclusion, the palace walls all seemed to fall down around him. His inner world he had crafted to house everything of 'importance' had abruptly come down in ruins.

The enemy had launched an invasion on the heavily guarded palace and against all odds they had brought it crumbling down around him. They had managed to get through and cause him to finally hit the point he vowed never to return to again, not after the first time. Once more, a story for another day... maybe.

Sherlock found himself standing in the debris of his once grand and noble mind palace, he was slowly brought back into reality by that once familiar voice of the Pathologist.

''Do you want anything? Cup of Coffee perhaps?'' Molly asked him with a hushed tone, obviously not wanting to startle the clearly confused man.

He turned his head up to her, their eyes locking just like before. But this time something was different. She didn't falter or nervously turn her head away, but instead she continued to look back at him.

When their eyes locked a lot of times previous, they always seem to hold a certain sparkle in them. Especially whenever he was on a case with exciting murder at the pinnacle of it, they would sparkle with happiness almost. But it also acted like a gateway to the estranged yet eccentric and unique world which lie beyond them, in the realm of the consulting detective. But not this time. That once sparkle in his eyes had faded, almost as if it never existed in the first place. They would no longer illuminate the world that lie beyond them. It had almost been engulfed into a world of darkness, almost looking as if the shining sparkly would never emerge.

In the several years Molly had known him, she had never encountered this expression before.

''N-no... Thanks.'' Sherlock muttered in reply.

Not only had he lost complete control of everything, but it had gotten so bad that it was beginning to project on the outside. He was showing such weakness, he could be read like an open book.

The last line of defense his mind palace has was now on the brink of collapse by this time. He was holding it up with all his remaining strength, until it was just too much for him to handle and ended up just giving in, letting it topple on top of him. What would exactly be the point of standing in the ruin of his once great mind palace?

What happened next had never happened to him before. By this time the enemy had gotten so far in, that it was influencing his own body to betray him.

Sherlock felt some kind of liquid substance slowly emerging from his eye, feeling it begin its short journey down his rather sharp cheekbone and and down to his chin. Dripping off and onto the back of his hand. Sherlock raised his said hand to the eye which the strange substance had escaped from. Running both his index and middle fingers across the bottom eyelid, before pulling it back and gazing at the substance. Bringing it closer to observe more thoroughly. But nothing. He couldn't identify even what this mysterious liquid was. For the first time in recent memory, he had given up with it. His arms slumped down infront of him and he hunched over once more, staring at the floor once more.

Molly was sitting beside him on the rather nasty, flower patterned sofa. She didn't know what to do or say to him, but she knew better than anyone that right now, he was hurting an incredible amount. It was like his whole world had disappeared around him and there was no way of obtaining it back again.

Molly decided that enough was enough, she had to swallow her fear and prove that she was going to be there for him. She inhaled rather deeply, before exhaling quickly after. Raising her slightly shakey hand, she reached out to slowly place it on his shoulder. Why the in the world was she feeling so nervous? She didn't have a reason to and yet, here she found herself shaking slightly from these nerves. But that hardly mattered right now. This great man had fallen from grace and was now a hollow shell of the former man he was. But she loved him, she loved Sherlock Holmes with all her heart and soul. And she knew there wasn't a lot she could do to help him.

She then rested her hand on his shoulder. It was then that he pulled his shoulder back from her kind gesture rather harshly.

''I don't need your pity!'' Sherlock hissed at her.

And without another word, she nodded at his command and took her hand away from his shoulder. It was obvious to her that Sherlock didn't want her comfort or in his case 'her pity'. Her arm fell back to her side. Getting up and going to depart from Sherlock's side, Molly felt a tight grip suddenly take grasp onto her wrist, turning and seeing Sherlock holding tightly onto her.

''P-please stay...'' He muttered, looking up at her.

Again, she met with his eyes and saw that liquid he was somehow unfamiliar with. But Molly knew very well what this meant.

By this time, tears were streaming down his face. Now this was something new. How in the world was she going to deal with this? She could usually deal with Sherlock's vicious comments, but this was something completely different.

Turning back toward him, Molly sat down beside him once more. The grip he had on her wrist has loosened, instead he held onto her hand. Molly was uncertain on where to proceed from here. Sherlock was projecting emotions she never thought existed within him.

The man that is Sherlock Holmes had always been shrouded in mystery. Cut from his emotions and always so cold toward almost everyone, was now sitting here, in the darkness of this flat, firmly clinging onto the hand of a woman he had invested everything in. And as much as he wouldn't ever admit it, he needed her more than ever.

Molly knew it already, knew that no matter what happened, no matter what the cost was, she was going to do whatever it took. Sherlock had said it so himself.

''You do count. You've always counted and I've always trusted you.''

Sherlock continued to let the tears roll. He was like a helpless little kid, a kid crying out for the one person who meant more to him than anything else. The more he cried, the more and more he missed his dear companion and blogger; Doctor John Watson.

Ever since the man had entered his life, things never really were quite the same. A man of a simple mind, John was different from other 'friends' before him. He admired Sherlock for his true genius, almost treating him as if he were... human. For a man like Sherlock who refused to be classed as 'human', he surely craved wanting to be known as one. Maybe it was to impress John? To show him that he really was a human man, just like he always wanted him to be?

Would John have been happy if he saw this sight before him? The infamous Sherlock Holmes sobbing over someone as simple minded and plain such as John Watson? No, of course he wouldn't. John wasn't that kind of man, he would never be that kind of man. Maybe to see the sight of the most inhuman human showing some emotion, but never the fact that he had become such a broken man. More likely pull him into an embrace and tell him a few simple things.

''You're never alone,'' or ''You're the most human human, I've ever known.''

John's nonexistent words echoed in Sherlock's head for a moment and only made him feel worse. Letting out a small sob and realizing he may never get those times again.

Running halfway across London in an attempts to catch a Serial Killer, or smirking and making jokes at a pretty horrific crime scene, or even receiving compliments from John on a regular basis at how brilliant he was. Even down to the smallest detail of John walking into the flat and commented on how blatantly ignorant he was when it came to sentiment, down to him offering him a kind gesture of making tea for him, when Sherlock was in the deepest recesses of his mind palace.

Now that Sherlock thought about it, he would never really know how John put up with his nonsense a lot of the time. But he was thankful, ever so thankful to John. If they hadn't of found each other when they did, who knows what the outcome would be. That is something Sherlock really didn't like to think about. Either way, he was always going to be in John's debt. Because without John, he would be nothing. He would more likely be on alliances with Moriarty by now.

John was a saviour.

Sherlock's saviour.

And nothing was going to take that away.

And this was his show of gratitude. Throwing himself off of St. Barts Roof and saving his life, just like John had saved his.

Sherlock leaned his head against Molly's shoulder and continued to cry silently. Molly didn't say anything, just allowed him get all of his emotions out. This is what he needed, especially after keeping it locked out for so long, he was making up for those many years. Tightening her hand around his own, she was showing that she would be there, she would always be there. At anytime of the day, she wouldn't be going anywhere and would be staying here always.

In the black of a one bedroom flat in the heart of London.

Was a crying Sherlock Holmes.

Crying out for his friend who he could very well never see again.

Sherlock Holmes,

Was A Broken Man.

To be continued...?

(Author Notes: Hey everyone, Decayed-Fantasy here. Thanks so much for reading my first ever Sherlock fan fiction. My first fan fiction I've written for about two and a half years, so I am hoping people are gonna like this one! I don't know what else to say apart from thanks again and I really hope you enjoyed it. Please do let me know what you think, I'd definitely love to hear back from people. I'd love to get working on a second part, provided people liked this first part. Don't know what else to say apart from another massive thanks to K-chan who beta read this for me, even though she isn't that interested in the BBC Sherlock series. A huge thanks again! :D)

(Another small notice. This is reuploaded here onto my new account from my old one. Needed a new start and I've been thinking about it recently, so this is just a reupload. And the next chapter is gonna be a few more days, hopefully not to long. I am working on a one-shot at the moment which'll be up tomorrow)


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